


A Dozen Sunflowers

by NeonHeiress, thatspacegay



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff somewhere in here, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonHeiress/pseuds/NeonHeiress, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatspacegay/pseuds/thatspacegay
Summary: His name was Conrad.That's what Amanda told him.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	A Dozen Sunflowers

**Author's Note:**

> hey ya'll, this is a WIP that neonHeiress and I have had in google docs for about two years now and since we're all quarantined why not post the first chapter now

(Week 0)

His name was Conrad.

That’s what Amanda had told him.

She had explained the situation to him, and given him the details. Amanda had always been the one who debriefed him, talked to him, handled him. His first few months of life had been nothing but tests and experiments, unending and difficult, tweaking him free of all the bugs in his mind and body, while Amanda made him aware of all his shortcomings. The last few weeks, however, her praise had been especially common. His stamina was perfect, and his shooting was an art form. He could reconstruct situations down to the body language and millisecond of an event, both forwards and backwards. Amanda said she was proud.

And now, she said, he had a partner. 

Human task forces were comprised of humans brought together by chance - life decisions they made based on whims and situations made by chance. Sometimes they worked out well together, human unpredictability coming to something entirely new - and sometimes it did not, the formation of toxic, hateful relationships just as, if not more so, common then the good ones. This was more than lady luck - this was destiny. They had been made with each other in mind, meant to be the perfect team. They were perfect for each other in every way, made to fit like puzzle pieces, compatible by design. 

Connor had been made first - mostly to test out new software and abilities not available to other models. He was a prototype, never really meant to actually see the field, but a good test run. 

“However,” Amanda had stated to him one sunny afternoon in his Garden, “You’ve done exceptionally well. Better than we could have ever hoped. You have your bugs, of course, but your dedication to the missions, your resilience, and your dependability is astounding. We are running out of time before your skills will be needed - and it would be counterproductive to put all this good training to waste.” 

Time for what, he wondered? She hadn’t told him, and he didn’t ask. She was the one who was supposed to be asking the questions - he was made to obtain answers. 

His partner, however, would not be so thoroughly looked over. With time running so short, it would be up to Connor to mostly determine any mission-ending failures Conrad may have. As he was given such a major responsibility, it made sense for him to have some say in his production. 

So, he was sent to level 37 to look over and evaluate the not-quite complete partner he had been made. His body was done, for the most part, his features already set in metal and plastic, but they were testing every part of his programming they could. He would be done within the next two weeks, and if Connor had any changes he felt would be beneficial to his performance as his partner, then he needed to make them now. 

When he first saw Conrad, he was sitting on a cold lab table in the middle of the workspace. Three scientists were busy around him, but not seemingly on him at the moment. He appeared incomplete - he looked straight ahead, and every time one of the scientists made a noise his head would turn lazily, too late to comprehend or understand what was happening around him, but not able to have it bother him. 

Connor watched this go on for some time. He watched Conrad look at everything, nothing registering behind his eyes with his programming incomplete. He looked innocent, if Connor had to choose a word. At peace, curious, wide eyed. Amanda would question him on his word choice, later, but he’s not sure he could explain it any better than that. 

When Connor stepped in front of him, his eyes traveled up to look at Connor. They were blue. Connor wondered why his brown had been changed. Conrad showed a lot of areas they had decided a flaw in Connor himself - he was taller, his legs longer and thicker. His shoulders were broader and his arms were more defined. He looked more synthetic - he was given flawless skin a perfect nose, eyes the same exact size, and a body that was entirely symmetrical. Conrad was more mechanical, while Connor had been modeled to be more human, flaws present on his body even without skin. He could change most of these features about himself, unlike other models, and he wondered if Conrad could too.

Connor met his eyes, and after a long, long moment of looking over his destined partner, he spoke. 

“State your name,” Connor broke the half silence. 

Even half completed, it was amazing how much emotion was displayed on his flawless, blank face. His eyebrows furrowed, and he frowned. It was almost like he couldn’t make heads or tails of what Connor was saying for a long moment. His eyes dropped down, down to Connor’s nose, lips, chin, and finally his chest. “...RK.” He finally answered, “RK, like you. RK...nine hundred.” 

Nine. Connor’s eight hundred was displayed proudly on his chest, while Conrad had nothing to identify him as an android except for his steady blue LED. 

“You are Nine,” Connor repeated back to him, like an affirmation. 

“I am Nine,” Conrad agreed, blindly. There was something endearing about the way Conrad seemed so ready to accept whatever Connor said at face value. Did he know his true name, Conrad, the yin to Connor’s yang? Or did he only know he was designated as an RK model, and Connor had given him the name “Nine”?

Either way, it was unlikely he would stay in that condition once his programming was fully in place. So, Connor didn’t correct him. 

“If you are Nine,” Connor told him instead, “then I am Eight. We are highly specialized, advanced models. We are partners.”

And they were partners. 

In the end, Connor had no corrections. He was perfect, in every way. Better than Connor without truly being a threat to Connor's own skill, different enough to be comfortable in each other's fundamental understanding of the other. He was done by the end of the week. From there, testing of him had been rigorous - and he resulted in very few bugs.

He was extremely fast. His strength was equivalent to the strength of construction androids. Connor was more precise than him with a gun, even after training, but that was only by centimeters. He was smart, he learned concepts just as fast as Connor, if not more so. He understood fundamental human needs, and his dedication was a perfect match for Connor’s own need for completion. They completed shared tasks in record times, rarely needing to talk between them to accomplish goals. They knew how the other moved after the first few days, until two machines became one, perfect cogs turning one another. 

For the most part. 

Connor’s own training had been months longer than Nine’s. Connor’s bugs were found and eliminated, while Nine’s training had been based almost entirely on physical performance. This left some things to be desired. Nine’s energy stores would deplete much faster than Connor’s, as his frame was bigger, his abilities more extensive. His human relations protocols were not as advanced as Amanda would like. Connor had to step in more than once during simulated interrogations and interviews. His streak of bending the rules became more and more noticeable as time went on.

But most of all, he was prone to asking more questions than answering. Simulation cases turned into much too long processes as he asked endless questions - that didn’t particularly matter. Connor valued thorough police work, and once Nine started asking questions, it was hard not to support him in getting the answers he wanted. This only made Amanda more irritated with them than anything. Conversations between the three of them were tense. Reports were often met by suspicious questions on both ends. 

Amanda enjoyed comparing them, it seemed. No longer His Garden - but Theirs instead - she would question them endlessly. Why was Connor’s aim more exacting? Why was his simulation interrogation more to the point, more effective? Connor was the earlier model, one left with unfixable bugs. The predecessor. So why was he better, Conrad? 

And why was Conrad always the one to think of the little details that could make or break an investigation, Connor? Why was it that Conrad almost always knows what is going to happen with a situation, while Connor had practiced for so many months? 

She should have been a spike between them, the rusty cog in a well-oiled machine that made it slip and fail. Instead, Conrad almost always grew quiet in her lines of lecture. He would look down at her with his steely, blue eyes while Connor tried to understand for the both of them. He tried to answer her questions, make the excuses to do better, while Nine’s silence did nothing to alleviate the situation.

Time grew shorter. 

Amanda told them their purpose. They would be tools for CyberLife to assist in the deviant situation arising, and the situation was arising faster then they could have ever thought. Neither of them were perfect, neither of them did just as they were supposed to, neither of them was performing up to their full potential - and neither of them should have been allowed to see the field yet.

Yet they would have to. There was no other choice. And they would need to be prepared for days on end where they may not be able to report back to CyberLife in person, times where they would have to think of their feet in a non-simulated environment. Their stasis pods were replaced by a simple, two cot room which they were expected to share and learn how to function without the constant scientific attention and maintenance they’d had in the past. Basic first aid was downloaded to them both, for both humans and newer CyberLife Models. 

Amanda’s sessions were more rare, and their testing was not as often but more intense. The injuries obtained from testing were not healed within the hour, and they were not given commands for every move they made. They were responsible for taking care of each other. Had anyone expected it not to work? It was harder to tell when Connor was running low on energy, now, as he didn’t have a strict routine, and Nine was often the one to count the hours since his last stasis. Nine often didn’t understand that he did, in fact, need to show up for pre-scheduled testing on time, and would have much rather not - so Connor was sure to find him fifteen minute prior to get him away from his previous occupation. 

After all, they were partners. 

Nine - 8%  
Connor - 0%


End file.
